Storm
by Miss I-Like-Too-Many-Fandoms
Summary: The Avatar is dead. Sequel to The End.


**Kataang Week Part 4.**

**Avatar: The Last Airbender and The Legend of Korra belong to Nickelodeon, Mike, and Bryan.**

It wouldn't stop. The rain kept pouring down, deluge after deluge. Lightning. Thunder. Lightning. It had never stormed like this before. Not one person could recall a greater meteorological event. Nothing in recorded history could compare. Sozin's Comet was nothing to this. Floods were a constant fear and a constant occurrence. Mudslides threatened to take out entire villages. There was no end in sight as the sky continued to open up. Worst of all, it wasn't what he would have wanted. He would have apologized. He would have been in agony at the suffering. He would have redirected flood waters, stopped mudslides. But he was dead and the whole world mourned.

The morning Katara woke up and found Aang cold beside her was when the storm began. She had known it was coming. Knew it was imminent. She broke anyway. She pleaded with him, with the great spirit of the Avatar. Healing hands did nothing. The Avatar was dead. Aang was gone. There was no peace for his most steadfast companion, for his wife. Her closest solace was in the only other being who could truly feel her pain, an old, tired sky bison. They mourned together in the stables. Appa knew before Katara ever appeared at his door.

Tenzin stood by her side, his tears silent as they streaked his face. Kya arrived. Then Bumi. The siblings had always had their troubles, their disagreements, but they collapsed into each other the moment they reunited. They followed their mother around, lost. It had been sudden and unexpected to all but the now nearly mute for the elder waterbender.

Though so ridden with grief she could barely stand, Katara prepared the body with Kya's aid. Aang had explained the funeral rites of his lost nation and she followed them to the letter. The last Air Nomad would finally be laid to rest.

They kept him in state for two days. Katara, the kids, the family they had adopted, hated it, but they knew they had to. They mourned him as a father, a friend, but the world mourned him too. They had to share him a final time. There were no dry eyes in Republic City. A black flag hung from the nearly completed memorial statue. All stores were closed. No one worked save for the healers in the hospital. Ships, airships, every vehicle imaginable poured into the city in droves.

The storm was never ceasing. The rain never stopped, never paused. It rained and rained and rained. It kept no one away however. Not even Toph complained. In fact, little was said before the funeral. The old friends could only sit together in silence, holding hands or pressed close together. There was a void they were desperately trying to fill. They knew it would always remain, but they tried anyway, anything to keep from breaking down.

Ursa, Bumi, Kya, Tenzin, Lin. They had all loved Aang dearly as a father, an uncle, but they knew they could not fathom the pain their parents, aunts, and uncles bore with them. Aang had brought them all together. They had fought at every turn to keep him alive. They had even brought him back from the dead. And still, it was time that took him. Where all else had failed, time had killed the Avatar.

There had never been a funeral like Avatar Aang's. The idea had been proposed to have the service on the unfinished Avatar Aang Memorial Island, but it was immediately thrown out. The city didn't have enough room to house the mourners. The island would never be able to hold even a fraction of those who would be attending. And the unrelenting rain and lightning. The statue had already been struck twice. There didn't need to be a second tragedy on the world's saddest day. In the end, Air Temple Island was chosen. Earthen platforms were constructed by Toph to fan out from the southwestern corner of the island, where the pyre would stand. It faced the Southern Air Temple.

Thousands upon thousands stood on the platforms jutting out of the sea. It didn't matter that they couldn't hear the speeches. They simply had to be there to pay their respects. Only the family however was allowed to approach the pyre. Katara, the kids, Toph, Zuko, Sokka, none could speak. They couldn't bear to give a speech and so they left it to those who knew Aang only as the Avatar, not as goofy twelve year old, a husband, a father, a best friend. Not that they heard what was said anyway. What could anyone possibly say as the world appeared to end around them. White Lotus waterbenders were stationed around the platforms, keeping the rain at bay, but the thunder and lightning went unopposed.

Katara struggled to keep her sobs contained, her small form shaking with the effort. To all who saw her, the waterbender appeared to be cracking and moments from falling apart. Bumi had no tears, but his jaw was locked and trembled as he fought them back. Kya wept openly, but silently, her hands clasped tightly in those of her brothers. Tenzin was empty. Tears stained his face and continued to drip down his jaw. His father's burden had passed to him. He was now the last airbender.

Sokka stood by his sister, his nieces and nephews on her other side. Brother and sister touched briefly there and there, fingers brushing and linking momentarily. Though surrounded by family and their friends, the Water Tribe siblings were alone. They were teenagers again, but in this awful time, there was no iceberg and only a terrible, deep sorrow. Even Toph cried, but she made no noise. The sight was even more startling as tears fell from pale, unseeing eyes. Lin was practically wrapped around her mother. Though they shared twin stoic expressions, tears ran unabated. Zuko stood beside Mai across from Katara. His scar stood out in stark relief every time lightning struck. His tears irritated the skin even more.

When the speeches finally ended, silence fell. Even the sky appeared to have quieted out of respect, thunder having ceased. One by one, Aang's family, the one he had chosen and the one he had helped created, approached the pyre, saying their last goodbyes. Words whispered were lost as the wind picked up. Katara was the last. She squeezed his hand one final time, being the last to touch the Avatar upon the earth. She returned to her children, wrapping her arms around Kya and Bumi as Zuko and Tenzin stepped forward.

With tears renewed in their eyes and falling freely to the ground, they faced the pyre. Zuko lit the pyre in one slow, smooth motion, his hands trembling. The pyre ignited and soon Aang's robes and then finally, his body. Tenzin's movements were much more pronounced than Zuko's as he controlled the air around the pyre preventing the ashes from escaping into the wind. His entire form was shaking in grief but his hold on the air did not waver. When nothing remained but dark ash, Tenzin directed his father's remains into the urn at the foot of what had been the pyre. The crowd dispersed and only the family remained. Toph dismantled the platforms quickly, glad for the distraction.

They all knew he would want them to rejoice in his life, to share jokes and memories, but as they stared at what contained his ashes, they couldn't bear to open their mouths. It was almost painful to breathe, as if he had taken all the air with him.

Katara and Kya didn't even bother to hold the rain back as the White Lotus guards were dismissed. The harsh rain poured over them and no one complained. The sharp pinpricks of the hard rain were almost welcome to the numb forms. There was no way to keep track of time with the seemingly eternal darkness of the storm, but it seemed to have been a very long time before Katara broke away from her children and picked up the urn. Everyone followed. As they entered the stables, Appa stood immediately, his eyes mirroring all of those around him. Katara didn't question the bison's health this time, nor did anyone else. It wouldn't be right to take any bison but Appa.

They helped each other into the saddle and were off, Tenzin at the reins. None gave it much thought, but as they moved farther and farther from Republic City, the storm did not dissipate. It was as if it was following them. Even the long flight could not break the silence in the saddle. Appa refused to land and no one could bear the thought of stopping and so they didn't. The rain and thunder and lightning had picked up again, but Appa flew through it expertly.

Katara couldn't help but to muse that this must be what it had been like right before Aang was frozen in the sea, but she did not share her thoughts.

Everyone in the saddle was huddled close together, but not for refuge from the storm, nor from cold. Even young Iroh, who Ursa held in her lap did not speak as he had not the whole day.

Nobody moved at first as Appa landed. No one's eyes crossed another's, everyone glancing around the temple they had helped Aang restore years ago. Even the storm could not diminish its beauty. Again, Katara was the first to move, dismounting Appa on her own despite numerous silent offers of aid. They walked to the far end of the temple, to another terrace, a stunning view of the Patola Mountains before them. They paused again as Katara placed the urn at the edge of the drop. Everyone stared at the urn, some lost in thought, others intent on the object. When his mother nodded, Tenzin was forced again to raise his father's ashes. His siblings moved with him, grasping tightly to his robes.

The remnants of Aang were suspended in the air for a moment before being sent away, Tenzin sending them far off and wide, to then be carried on the wind. It was done. He was truly and finally gone. He was the air, the sky, everything around them. Katara collapsed to her knees.

"Goodbye, Aang." The wind seemed to carry her hoarse words, the agony and loss echoing in the mountains. Thunder paused to let the words ring out clearer than any other sound.


End file.
